The Driver
by Mrs Dionysius O'Gall
Summary: It doesn't take Jenna Jameson to figure out what the heck she's doing to him... Observations of the limo driver. Fill in scene for 'Blame Booze and Melville'.


They're not my usual Saturday night fare this time of year. Definitely not the teenaged prom-goers that make up the bulk of my spring income. Prom season, wedding season, both really help out with the bills.

Tonight, this fare is long-distance, into the Big City, not just local, say to one of Hartford's swankier hotels. It's an all-night job. If I'm lucky, they'll make it a long evening and I'll make a pretty penny with on-call pay.

I pick the couple up in front of a ramshackle-looking house in a small town close to Hartford. The couple comes out before I even make it to the door. I straighten my uniform and walk back to the limo.

The woman's all giggly and wrapped up in the guy as he ushers her into the limo. He's whispering to her and seems just as wrapped up in her...

-----

The drive into New York goes smoothly. I glance into my rearview mirror out of habit: usually I'm enforcing the "no body parts out through the moon roof" rule, or else being subjected to the gropings of teenaged lust. Kind of nice to have a sedate older couple back there for a change, I think. And so I relax with the glancing, because it's a long drive and what with adults back there, there's nothing to worry about.

They've rolled up the privacy screen and so I drive towards the City, a fairly routine job.

We arrive at the fancy-schmancy Manhattan hotel shortly after eight. The guy comes 'round to my door, all eager-beaver-like, before I even have a chance to do my thing, and I quickly hop out.

"Eleven, right?" I inquire, checking my clipboard.

"Yeah," the woman pipes up from around the corner, stuck in an awkward pose as she adjusts her heels.

"Cell's 555-123-456, if you need me earlier or later," I advise as I hand him my card.

His hands are...big. I take a good look at him. For some reason, when I came to the door for pickup, I was mostly preoccupied with her. Her dress was damn gorgeous, from what little I could see. Now I notice him. Lucky lady. Wearing a shirt that picks up the blue in his eyes...good move. I see a lot of good lookin' people in this job. People are always dressed up and lookin' their best when I take them places. I'm good at noticing these things.

-----

Midnight, and my phone rings.

I can barely hear the voice on the other end due to the background noise.

I assume it's my fare back to that sleepy burg outside Hartford. The guy had called around 10; voice all slurred, to say they'd be later, so it's fair to say they've had a damn good time. And it's an hour more on-call pay for me, so I ain't complainin'.

"...comin' now," he says.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, the doorman swings open the door and out they come.

Looks like they had a good time. No, make that a great time.

She's even more all giggles and smiles; he's barely walking straight.

It's nights like these that I especially appreciate my job. Keeps people off the streets, saves the world from a DUI or two.

I hop out and open the door, sparing a glance at the interior. Usually I spend a good hour cleaning up after the prom kids. Tonight was easy.

They tumble in. I catch a glimpse of her legs. Fabulous, just fabulous. I'm so jealous. Short stubby-legged me, not fair that gals like her have the legs and the looks and the guys.

Though I can't complain...Eddie's been damn good to me.

I check out the guy. In the glare of the streetlights, I see his receding hairline, start of a bald patch. Definitely middle-aged, maybe 40, I think. But damn, those eyes. And his coat's off and he's definitely built. Hot damn, gotta think of Eddie.

They ain't noticing me right now, though, as I close the limo door on them and start us on our way home.

-----

OK, here's the problem. The gal is playing with the privacy screen button, and it's going up and down, down and up. Doesn't distract me from the driving, mind you, I'm a professional. She finally stops fooling with the thing and raises the screen, but not quite all the way up. I can see the top of her head, and then they start smooching.

Must not be married, I think.

-----

The drive back goes as expected--traffic's light. But I gotta tell ya, that couple back there, jeez Louise. I wished I had control of that screen. I see her head disappear and the guy's head loll back onto the seat rest, and it doesn't take Jenna Jameson to figure out what the heck she's doing to him. How's a girl supposed to drive safely knowing that that's going on in the back seat with two such fine lookers?

I only hope there's no mess.

-----

I finally pull into that burg they're from. Stars Hollow. I hear a tap on the screen, and it comes down, and the guy, tie all askew and flipped over his shoulder, talks to me using the mic.

"Can you pull in at Luke's Diner?" he asks.

"Sure thing, boss," I reply.

Luke's Diner, there it is. I pull up in front of it, but he motions with his hand and I see there's a back alley. So, I pull around back there.

I get out, and this time, the guy is not exactly rushing to my door. Instead, he waits for me to do my job all proper.

I open the door, and discreetly stand to the side. I'm not supposed to look, but I'm only human, capiche?

The woman's all giggling and hair disheveled, holding her shoes (geez, are those Manolos?) in one hand and the other one is underneath the guy's shirt, I think. He reaches something towards me, and I take the wad of what I hope is cash from him.

"Thank you, sir," I say, "enjoy the rest of your evening."

She's already pulled him towards the door as I get back into my vehicle.

I look at the wad in my hand. She must be damn good, I think, because that is one generous tipper. I grab my clipboard and note the drop-off time, then call Eddie.

"Be home in thirty, Hon," I tell him. Eddie's so sweet, always waitin' up for me when I've got a late-night job.

As I back out of the alley, I look towards the back door of the diner. I smirk. They haven't even made it all the way in; he's got her back against the wall just inside the entrance, his jacket's off and...

I'm out on the main street, heading home. 


End file.
